


softly

by alarminglyrmus



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Art student!Jean, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mutual Pining, florist!Jeremy, tattoo artist!Jean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:19:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22916113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alarminglyrmus/pseuds/alarminglyrmus
Summary: "It was his smile. A smile that rivaled the sun itself. A smile that could revive any flower, any person, any animal. It was the look in his eyes. The same one he always gave Jean, like looking at him brightened his day.It was fool's play to think one could know Jeremy Know and not fall in love with him."-In which Jean starts anew, yearns for flowers, and paints the sun.
Relationships: Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 91





	softly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kevindayisbi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kevindayisbi/gifts).



When was the last time Jean Moreau had a dream? If one would ask him, he would say about three years ago. Every day he slept in hopes of dreaming something, anything, but he always ended up in the repeated cycle of nothing. As soon as he opened his eyes, he knew he failed once again. Jean stared at his ceiling. His past psychologist had told him it was nothing to worry about, she had even mentioned that it was better not to dream at all than having nightmares. At the time, Jean had simply told her it wouldn’t matter if they were nightmares, as his life already was one. 

Jean sighed and continued staring at his ceiling, tracing his eyes over the bumps that were scattered all over the apartment. His alarm had been ringing for minutes now. He turned on his side, glared at his phone, and finally turned the alarm off. The piercing silence that took over calmed him. The only constant in his life these days. The only thing he knew he would always come back to.

He stood up and stretched. From there onwards, it was the same cycle he’d created since he moved into the neighborhood last week. Shower, dress, eat breakfast, and sit on the couch to watch television. The only thing that changed this time was the last part. He had a job interview today. As soon as Jean finished moving in, he walked around the neighborhood in search for a job. He found a small tattoo parlor just ten minutes from his apartment with a sign that said “Looking for staff.” He went inside and instantly met the owner of the place. Kevin Day was an interesting man, to say the least. The whole time they talked, he kept scrutinizing Jean as if he were a puzzle, but he had given him a date for his interview in an instant anyway.

Jean gathered his portfolio and went on his way. The hot, californian sun was a bother to his eyes each morning, but he knew that he would eventually get used to it. A man riding a bicycle sped past him with a greeting. Jean ignored his neighbor and went on with his walk. He arrived at the tattoo parlor just five minutes before the appointed time. 

Kevin Day was waiting for him, and once he saw Jean, he smiled and motioned for him to sit down. Jean sat down on the couch and tried not to stare at the man beside Kevin. He had scars that matched the few ones Jean had on his face. His blue eyes would’ve had Jean cowering back had it not been for his shorter height and Jean’s incapability of getting scared. 

“Morning, Jean. This is Neil Josten, the co-owner I told you about,” said Kevin. 

Neil gave him an once-over. “Kevin spoke highly of you.”

Jean looked at Kevin and received a confident smile. 

“I only hope I reach those expectations,” voiced Jean. Neil, seemingly appeased with the statement, nodded and reached over for his portfolio. Jean watched as Kevin leaned down so he and Neil could look at Jean’s portfolio together. Time went past slowly, more so with only the sound of paper being switched filling the room. Kevin muttered things in Neil’s ear and Neil either nodded or hummed at whatever he said. Jean began playing with his fingers, a tic he’d gotten in the past year, as he waited for them to finish.

Neil reached the last page, stared at the drawing for a whole minute, and closed the binder. Jean, even a traitor to himself, held his breath.

“You’re very good. I’d say even better than both of us,” said Neil.

“Thank you,” muttered Jean back.

A stretch of silence took over the room for some seconds before Kevin spoke up. “Well, I guess you’re hired. Neil’s not a man of many words, but I’ll say that what he said is enough.”

“I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow,” Neil told Jean. He gave Jean the tiniest bit of a smile before he left the room. Jean looked back at Kevin and found the man grinning at him. His face practically screamed the phrase  _ told you so _ . 

Jean finished arranging his contact information and working hours with Kevin and then left the place. He stood in front of the tattoo parlor, door closing behind him, and heaved a sigh. The small drop of excitement that had filled his chest had gone away. He took out a cigarette and watched a group of people walk down the street and into the bakery Jean had frequented for the whole week. He would eventually go inside and buy a piece of coffee cake, but for now he decided to stand still. 

Jean would start his last semester of university tomorrow. He laughed drily at the thought. It would be the first time he would go to class without eyes glued to the back of his neck or the stench of death following him around. That little drop of excitement flickered in his chest once again. He stubbed out the cigarette while scowling to himself. Hope was for idiots. Even if he were finally free, classes would still go by slowly and he would never find a  _ muse _ , or whatever his dumb classmates used to mention, for his projects. Jean began walking to the bakery, his scowl still in place. 

Hope was for idiots, and he had stopped being an idiot a long time ago.

  
  
  


It was no surprise that Jean already had three assignments by the time his day was over. He cursed whatever mighty gods there were as he exited his last class. He was now on his way to the tattoo parlor, the stress of the day already weighing down his shoulders. As soon as he entered the place, Kevin was pushing him down the hallway and showing him his corner of work. Jean checked each and every item, knowing from past experience what he would use more and need closer to reach. Kevin left him alone and Jean began sketching an order from a client. Kevin had written notes to indicate what they wanted specifically. 

As soon as he was done with that, Jean took his time to work on assignments. First, a quick drawing of a tourist spot, for which Jean had chosen Times Square. Next, a drawing of a hidden oasis in a desert for his  _ mirage _ assignment, and finally, he could draw anything.

Jean sat back and frowned at the white sheet of paper. His teacher had simply told them to draw whatever they wanted. She said that through this drawing, she would get to know each one of them. Jean had rolled his eyes at the time, but now, as he stared at his blank sketchbook, he understood what the old woman meant by getting to know them through their art.

Jean was in the middle of drawing a broken lightbulb when Neil came up to talk to him. It started as small talk, a quick exchange of their past experience with clients and how to handle their demands, but then Jean started asking Neil about his tattoos.

“I mostly just have fun with them.” Neil shrugged. He continued, “I have tattoos of things I like, things I’m afraid of, and just random objects too.”

“And what are you afraid of?”

Neil smiled. “The ocean.” His whole right arm was covered in marine life. 

A peaceful silence reigned over them. Jean went back to perfecting his lightbulb as Neil watched on. By the time he had drawn the broken top, Neil had spoken once again.

“What about your tattoos? Do they have any meanings or are they just for fun too?” Neil asked him.

“They don’t have any meanings. Most of them I’ve done simply because I liked them, while the others were just small things I’d drawn when I was younger.” Jean shook his head. 

“Then, they do have a meaning.” Neil’s blue eyes almost sparkled with mirth.

Jean frowned and looked at the red-head. “What do you mean?” 

“Those last ones. They are there to remind you of your past.” 

Jean chose to ignore him and went back to his sketch. Neil left shortly after that and Kevin arrived to inform Jean that it was his break time. Jean heaved a sigh and went outside.

The day was as sunny as ever. Sometimes, Jean almost wished for a rainy day, just to hear the splatter of rain on his windows or the thunder cracking near his apartment. He glared up at the sun, cigarette in his mouth. His eyes started to burn and he looked back down, blowing the smoke away from the entrance of the parlor. His eyes caught on the flower shop right across the street, its bright colors almost competing against the sun. Jean watched as a man came out to organize the display of flowers outside the store. His curly hair glowed in the sunlight, as did his smile when he stepped back to assess his work. Jean continued smoking and went to drop the stick in the trash can, but suddenly stopped. The man was now humming an unknown song. His angelic voice drifted through the street and reached Jean’s ears. Jean stared at the man as he finished arranging the last bouquet, words flowing from his mouth like butter. Suddenly, the man turned around and their eyes connected. Jean didn’t look at his face, instead looking at the flower petals that were tangled in his curls. Jean frowned when he felt, for the first time in his life, his interest piqued. He looked away, threw his cigarette into the trash can, and walked into the parlor without giving the man one last glance.

  
  
  


“Remember to bring your sketch to my desk before you leave.” Jean packed his brushes into his satchel. He picked up his sketchbook, giving his drawing of the broken lightbulb a last look before tearing it out and packing the sketchbook. He approached the teacher’s desk, ignoring her friendly smile and leaving the drawing on her desk. Last night, by some kind of strange will, he’d filled the broken lightbulb with flowers. It unnerved him, the sudden change in the sketch, and so he decided to leave the drawing black and white.

A passing thought entered his mind as he left the building. He promised himself to buy some flowers for his apartment. Even though he liked the current state of dullness that had his apartment, he could admit to himself that it wasn’t the best environment for an artist. Jean could lie to himself all he wanted, but he could recognize a spark of inspiration when it happened. Jean felt inspired maybe once every six months, and yesterday, drawing those flowers, had been the first time in a very long time. 

He looked down at his watch. It was early enough that he could go to the flower shop, order some arrangements, and cross the street to reach his job on time. He looked back up, quickly enough to catch a group of girls looking at him. Jean frowned to himself as they giggled. He crossed the street without looking at them, his chest tightening at the pointed feeling of being watched. The feeling quickly left as he reached the flower shop. He looked at the bouquets that adorned the outside of the shop. Jean could acknowledge a beautiful job when he saw one, and the racks filled with bouquets and flowers surrounding them was indeed a piece of art. Jean entered the shop at last, the ring of the bell signaling his arrival. 

The inside of the flower shop was, surprisingly, even more beautiful than the outside. Jean could only imagine what people thought of such a pristine place being a neighbor to Kevin and Neil’s dark tattoo parlor. He snorted at the thought before focusing on looking for a person to help him. The place was quiet, or at least it was until Jean heard some fumbling behind the counter. Jean frowned as he heard mumbling and then a crash. He froze at the last sound. He stared at the counter in thought, debating whether to check up on the person or not. With a resigned sigh, he leaned over the counter and looked down into a clutter of green.

“Everything okay down there?” The person hiding beneath all the leaves yelped and Jean closed his mouth to hold back a dry laugh. Jean watched as the person shook the leaves and flowers off their body before looking up at him. Jean found himself looking into honey eyes and rosy cheeks. His mind identified the man’s face with the one Jean saw yesterday outside the flower shop. As their eyes connected, the rosiness of his cheeks expanded into his ears and neck. 

Around five seconds passed before the blonde man stood up in a hurry, leaves falling off his clothes and onto the counter. Jean raised a brow at the mess the man made but made no comment.

“I- Um- Hello.” Jean blinked and waited until the man pulled himself together. 

He began playing with his hands, still staring at Jean with a blush Jean was almost sure couldn’t be healthy. The man took a deep breath before finally talking again, a blinding smile in place. “How can I help you?” 

Jean glanced at the mess on the floor before looking back at the him. “Sure you aren’t the one who needs help?” 

The florist’s eyes widened. Jean didn’t give the man a chance to answer him as he continued, “I need some flowers for my apartment.” 

“Oh! Anything special?” The man asked him. He had finally stopped fumbling his hands.

Jean shrugged. “Surprise me.” 

The man beamed at him before walking around the counter and to the front of the shop. Jean leaned against the counter and watched the florist hum to himself as he looked around the baskets. The man, if possible, was the human-version of the flower shop. His pastel attire matched most of the arrangements that were scattered around the room. His curly, blonde hair matched the sunlight that filled the entire shop. Minutes of watching the man pick up arrangements, leaving them, and moving on to another passed before he finally came back to the counter with his hands full. 

“You didn’t tell me how many arrangements you wanted so I just… winged it.” He placed four arrangements on the counter. Jean leaned back to stare at them, but really, he had no background to judge a pile of flowers. The man kept looking at Jean, who could detect the expectancy on his gaze.

“I work in the tattoo parlor right across the street. Can I pick them up later on?” Jean asked him. 

“Of course, I’ll just put them aside for you. I need your name, though,” said the florist.

“Jean.” 

The man beamed at him. Jean looked down to read the name tag on the man’s overalls. 

“We close at seven, Jean.” He leaned down to store the flowers behind the counter. Jean stared at the man’s back and waited for him to finish.

Jean nodded and said, “Thank you,” he looked back at the nametag before continuing, “Jeremy.”

He walked away, but not before seeing a blush bloom on Jeremy’s face. The bell ringed once again as Jean closed the door behind himself. The wind caused Jean’s hair to fall on his eyes, but he was too focused on the beating of his heart to fix it. It was not quick, but still a bit faster than usual. Jean frowned and waited for his heart to steady. Confusion muddled his head, but he ignored the strange feeling and walked towards the parlor. All the heat had to be messing with his brain. 

  
  
  


Jean was exhausted. He’d designed two tattoos, done three, and arranged his desk all in three hours. His hands were burning and he almost saw the light when Kevin told him it was time for his break. There was an apologetic look on his face, like he knew he’d pushed Jean to his limit on his second day, but Jean ignored him in favor of going outside as soon as possible. Jean heaved a sigh as the sun blinded his eyesight for a second and pulled out a cigarette from his back pocket. Surprisingly, Jeremy was outside the flower shop, fixing and changing flowers from the display. Jean tilted his head and watched as Jeremy glanced on his direction. The blonde man quickly looked away when their eyes connected, before looking back and then away once again. Jean quirked a brow when Jeremy waved his way. He lifted his cigarette in salute and scoffed when Jeremy tripped against the rack of flowers near the door. 

Jean finished smoking his cigarette at the same time Jeremy finished working on the display. The blonde man waved once again and Jean scowled at him. Jeremy wasn’t discouraged by his expression, it seemed, as he simply winked at Jean before leaving. The flower shop was now filled with people. Jean could only see the mess of blonde curls moving around the shop as he threw his cigarette away. 

He walked to the bakery nearby. The smell of baked cookies and coffee embraced his body as he entered the place. There, behind the counter, was the kind woman that had taken Jean’s orders for the last week. She had introduced herself as Renee the second time he’d visited the place. Jean found her to not be as annoying as the other people in the neighborhood, and coming from Jean that would be the greatest compliment in the world.

“Hello, Jean! You seem tired today, job taking a toll on you?” Jean sighed as he sat down on one of the tables near the counter. 

He nodded. “Today’s been a long day.” 

Renee gave him an apologetic smile. “Anything to cheer your mind up?”

“A sandwich and coffee would be great, yes.” Renee grinned and called out the order, earning a grunt from the small man beside her.

“You don’t have to scream, Walker.” The man had stopped kneading dough to glare at her.

Renee took flour from the table and threw it on the man’s face. “Stop frowning and keep working, Andrew.” Andrew mumbled something under his breath, but Renee’s attention was back on Jean.

“So, tell me about your day.” 

  
  


Ten minutes until 6 PM. Jean was rushing through the street. He’d asked Neil for an early leave and the redhead had taken one look at his battered hands before telling him yes. He heard a car honk as he crossed the street, but kept moving. Jean opened the door to the flower shop, a sigh falling from his mouth as he saw Jeremy tightening a bow around a bouquet. He approached the counter, garnering Jeremy’s attention when he finished with the bouquet. 

“Almost late, aren’t you?” Jeremy smiled teasingly at him.

Jean frowned. “Too much work. If I could’ve, I would’ve been here earlier.”

The smile fell from Jeremy’s mouth. “Hey, I’m just teasing. You’re right on time.”

He crouched down to look for Jean’s order. Jean ignored the faint feeling of disappointment he’d gotten when Jeremy stopped smiling and drummed his fingers against the counter. 

Jeremy stood up, all the arrangements in his hand, and began placing them in a bag. Jean watched his experienced movements with hidden awe. The flowers were meticulously separated so that they didn’t crush one another.

“Here you go,” said Jeremy.

Jean accepted the bag and gave Jeremy his credit card, frowning to himself when Jeremy’s face stayed blank, no sign of his previous bubbly smile present. Jean signed the receipt and took back his credit card. He turned around, about to leave the store in the same hurried way he came in, but stopped before he could reach the door. Jean nibbled his lip, cursed underneath his breath, and turned around.

“Thank you, once again. They’re very beautiful. The flowers, I mean.” 

Jeremy’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open in what appeared to be shock. Jean cursed himself for his horrible delivery. He was about to save himself from the embarrassment of looking at Jeremy’s shocked face when the florist spoke up.

“You’re welcome. Come back whenever you like.” The smile was back on Jeremy’s face, now wider if possible, and with it a blush that rivaled the color of a rose. There was a softness to his expression, one Jean had never seen before, and a certain glint in his eyes, one of interest perhaps. Jean, unbeknownst to himself, held his breath at the sight.

“Well. Goodbye.” He turned away and walked out of the store. Jean walked his ten-minute trip home in a new record of four minutes. 

  
  
  
  


Two hours. It had been two hours since Jean sat down to draw his sketch of the greek statue from his Monday class, but to no avail, he kept drawing flowers. It had been a whole month since he first visited the flower shop and Jean felt like if he could dream, flowers would be the thing he’d dream of. He groaned into his hand and let his head fall on top of his desk. 

“Problems in art paradise?”

Jean opened one eye and then quickly closed it. “Fuck off, Neil.” 

Jean heard the rustling of papers and opened his eyes to see Neil sitting on his desk. He scowled up at the redhead, earning himself a mocking smile and a flick to the forehead. 

“I can’t seem to stop drawing flowers. I’m supposed to be drawing a statue right now and yet…” Jean looked down at his sketchbook, where flowers were randomly filling the page.

Neil followed his gaze. He hummed to himself before looking back at Jean. Jean had finally gotten over the alarmingly bright color of Neil’s eyes and was able to look at the man properly.

“You can do a statue with flowers around it or flowers sprouting from the statue’s hands.” 

“I already did that once with a light bulb.”

Neil jumped off the desk. He grinned as the door opened and revealed a scowling Andrew Minyard. Neil looked at where Jean was seated and crooked a brow at him. “I thought you art majors always had a theme going on.” 

The redhead walked away, leaving Jean pondering over his statement. He looked down as Neil gave Andrew a kiss, not wanting to intrude. The flowers stared back at him, almost daunting him with their stillness. Jean groaned and stood up, signaling to Kevin that he would finally take his break. Kevin, who was currently tattooing a scared eighteen-year-old, merely gave him a glance before nodding his acknowledgement. 

It had become a routine, smoking a cigarette and watching Jeremy do his daily change of the display. Every single time Jeremy waved at him, Jean would salute him back. Today, due to his stress and frustration with his own mind, he was on his second cigarette before Jeremy was done with his assignment. He almost wanted to cross the street and do something to the flowers, but as soon as he saw Jeremy’s peaceful smile, he let the thought drift away from his mind. He had no idea what was happening to him, he didn’t know why his mind was suddenly so obsessed with the concept of flowers. He almost wanted to approach Jeremy about it, but every time he thought of talking to the blonde man his mind blanked. Jean tried not to think about it too much, what Jeremy did to his brain. It all screamed  _ danger _ to him, the adrenaline and the raising of his heartbeat whenever he saw the florist. 

Jeremy did his last wave, to which Jean did not wave back, and entered the shop. The sudden stillness of his surroundings calmed Jean until he was able to throw his cigarette into the bin and go back inside the parlor. As soon as he sat down, his hand reached for the pencil and began moving. In the end, it was a greek statue, the same one that had stood in his morning class, but it was missing half of it’s head. Flowers were sprouting out of the open space. While drawing, Jean had searched for different types of flowers. He’d chosen an orchid, a delphinium, and an eglantine. 

The statue was of the greek god Apollo. Jean wrote the meaning of the flowers on the bottom right corner of the paper.  _ Beauty, Heavenly, and Poetry and Healing.  _

  
  
  
  


October. A month Jean would’ve never thought to be important to him, despite it being his birthday month. It was the month he would start his last project for university. They all had to do a portrait with oil painting, but everyone had different requirements. His teacher was now explaining what she wanted to see from each of the students. She always seemed fond whenever she talked to Jean, and although Jean felt unnerved by this most of the time, he had grown to stand the older woman in the past months. 

She approached his desk and smiled down at him. “I’m always impressed with your work Jean, so I won’t ask for much. You do have to use vivid colors in your painting, no black and white anymore, okay? I’ve enjoyed your theme of flowers this semester, but look for another way to incorporate them in your work. You have a great mind, Jean, perhaps one of the best inside this room. I know you will do a great job.” 

The teacher left his desk after giving him one last smile. Jean scowled at her back and packed up his stuff when she announced the end of the class. He felt numb, in a way, with all the thoughts that were passing through his head at the same time. It was like they were all there, but Jean couldn’t identify what to think of first. He tightened his hand around the strap of his satchel and took a deep breath. 

He’d tried to paint with colors before, but he never got to finish the paintings. They were a grand total of three, all undone. One had been a portrait of his mother, another portrait of what he vaguely remembered to be Marseilles, and lastly a sketch of a man with his shadow grasping at his chest. The closest one to being finished was the painting of the man. Jean felt the faint feeling of anger burn in his chest, but took another deep breath and let the numbness swallow the anger. 

He’d reached the tattoo parlor without noticing. It's dark walls had become familiar and comforting for Jean. It was the only place where he felt at ease. Jean did indeed like silence, but the buzzing of the tattoo machine relieved him of the stress from university. He gave Kevin and Neil a wave before sitting down at his station. It was Monday, which meant they would receive two to four clients. Jean took out his sketchbook and began drawing the first thing that came to his mind. Even though he was in his safe place, he still felt relatively stressed about his project. He had no idea what to do, but he needed to start practicing. Jean began to draw eyes, which was easy enough for him. 

An hour went past and Jean had three pages filled with different eye shapes. The first two pages had the eye shapes of the various people Jean had met in the last two months. The last page was different. The same pair of eyes were scattered around the page. Jean had given them more attention, even adding veins and making a section focused on the blinking of said eyes. He stared at the page in thought. He had no idea who he was drawing. It could be himself for all he knew, but the thought quickly went away when Jean remembered the shape of his own eyes. He stopped questioning himself and took out his colored pencils.

He finished the first page when a client arrived. Jean moved his art supplies to the side and stood up to greet the woman. He ended up doing two tattoos: a crescent moon on the right ankle and a flowered skull on her back. Jean had actually drawn the second one and had it pinned on his wall. The lady was immediately taken with it and asked Jean about it. It ended up looking as good as he imagined. It was not every day that he felt proud about his work, but the way the woman kept looking at the photos of her tattoos brought the feeling alive. Shortly after she left, Jean went back to finish the other eyes. He was halfway through the last page when he suddenly stopped coloring an iris. Not even the buzzing of Kevin’s machine calmed his heart from entering a frenzied stage. Looking back at him were Jeremy Knox’s eyes. Golden eyes, brown lashes, and wrinkles indicating a full smile. He had drawn Jeremy’s eyes around twelve times without noticing. 

His mind was still focused on the paper when Kevin came up to him. He tapped his wrist, something that he always did nowadays to tell Jean it was his break time. Before he noticed, Jean was up and running out of the shop. He ignored the way his fingers itched for a cigarette and crossed the street. Jean’s mind was blank, but his feet kept moving until he found himself inside the flower shop. The door crashed shut behind him and he felt movement to his left. Jeremy was staring at him, eyebrows raised at the ruckus he’d just made. Jean thought about apologizing for his sudden arrival, but his thoughts disappeared, once again, before he could. 

Jeremy had flower petals tangled inside his curls, just as he had the first time Jean had seen him, and was wearing a pastel pink sweater that matched with the petals. That had not been what stopped Jean’s breath, though. It was his smile. A smile that rivaled the sun itself. A smile that could revive any flower, any person, any animal. It was the look in his eyes. The same one he always gave Jean, like looking at him brightened his day. 

Jean gulped. It was a warning sign if he’d ever felt one before. The way Jean’s fingers began to itch for something else instead of a cigarette. The way Jean wanted to reach out and tuck a curl behind Jeremy’s ear. The way Jean wanted to look at his red paint and try to find the color that overtook Jeremy’s cheeks. It all screamed danger from start to finish.

Jean turned around and exited the store without saying a word. The sun glared down at him, mocking him in more ways than one. Hands curled into fists, eyes closed like a prayer, Jean cursed out into the deserted street. 

“Fuck.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


It had been one week since Jean visited the flower shop and stared at Jeremy before leaving without another word. It maybe wasn’t Jean’s brightest moment, but the following week hadn’t been that much better. Jean spent the entire seven days practicing facial features, and by practicing he meant drawing Jeremy’s face until his hands were red and numb, but he preferred not to acknowledge that.

Jean now sat at the bakery on his break. He had his sketchbook with him and was currently trying to do a perfect arch on a nose. He felt rather than saw Renee sitting in front of him.

“That crease between your brows is going to become permanent if you keep frowning.” 

Jean looked up from erasing the drawing to glare at her. “So be it.”

Renee shook her head and smiled. “As stubborn as always.”

The bell of the bakery chimed with the arrival of a client, or to be more precise, judging by the clacking of heels, the arrival of Allison Reynolds. Jean had seen her around seven times since he moved there. She was the owner of a renowned designer store that was just at the end of the street and Renee’s girlfriend. Two times he had seen her walking down the street while on his smoking break, while the other five had been at the bakery. She was always leaning on the counter and flirting with everyone’s favorite baker.

“Trying to steal my girlfriend, Moreau?” She took a chair from another table and joined them at theirs. Jean glanced down at her red boots before looking back up.

“Trying to steal some food, yes.” 

Jean waited for her to snap back, but instead found her looking down at his sketchbook. Her eyes were trailing down the page filled with golden eyes and his practice sketches of necks and jaws. 

“Is that Jeremy Knox?” 

Jean heard his neck crack as he turned towards her. “What?”

Allison leaned back against her chair, looking somewhat smug. “I know a pretty face when I see one.”

Jean felt his heart speed up, but simply took a deep breath and looked away from the smirking woman. Renee seemed to sense the sudden tension in the air, as she decided to speak up and said, “Those drawings are beautiful, Jean.”

He heard Allison hum in agreement and released a breath. Despite his now relaxed posture, Jean stood up and decided to bid goodbye to the girls. Allison had a guilty look on her face and Renee was already speaking about staying for a longer time, but Jean simply grabbed his satchel and walked out of the bakery. 

The sun was as blinding as ever. Jean had half a mind to think about buying sunglasses, but his head was currently occupied by many raging thoughts. He was barely fifteen feet away from the bakery when he crashed into a box, or well, a person holding a box. Jean felt his eyes widen as he looked down into Jeremy Knox’s equally wide eyes. Maybe he would also need to buy the sunglasses to block himself from whatever effect Jeremy had on him. 

Despite his inner complaints, Jean was currently trapped staring at the blush that bloomed on Jeremy’s face. After a lot of research done in the past week, Jean had come to the conclusion that there was no other red in the world that was identical to the one on Jeremy’s cheeks. One day he would decide it was rose red, then coral, then crimson, until he finally accepted that there was nothing to compare it to. Jean also researched what all the fast beating of his heart meant, but immediately closed all tabs when it all came down to a single answer.

Jean glanced at the roses inside the box.  _ Still not the same color.  _ He looked up and felt his breath catch at the fond look in Jeremy’s eyes. Jean had no idea what to say, even less so when his eyes were suddenly focused on the way Jeremy was biting his lip. He saw Jeremy’s mouth open to form a word, but before he could start speaking, a question Jean hadn’t even thought about fell from his mouth.

“Can I paint you?”

He almost closed his eyes as soon as he registered what he asked the florist. Many curses were flowing through Jean’s brain at that moment, French and English melding together into new words. 

Before he could take back the question, Jeremy raised a brow and said, “Like one of your french girls?”

Confusion clouded Jean’s brain, and it was clear that it showed on his face, as Jeremy scrambled to say, “I mean. Sure. Yes. Of course. Alright.” The blush had now spread onto his ears and down his neck. Jean thought of all the synonyms to beautiful he could remember, but kept his mouth closed. 

Seconds of tense silence passed. Jean, a thief on a mission, took that time to let his eyes have their fill. He already knew the next hours were going to be filled with extensive drawing.

“I need to go deliver this to Renee,” said Jeremy.

Jean straightened and moved to the side, leaving the path empty for Jeremy. The florist’s smile dimpled. “See you then,” continued Jeremy.

Clenching his hands at his sides, Jean barely nodded and managed to stay quiet. If he’d let himself talk, he would’ve probably started to wax poetry about Jeremy’s freckles. Said man gave him one last smile before walking away. Jean waited until Jeremy entered the bakery so he could run to the tattoo parlor. His mind and heart were racing at equal time. 

Kevin greeted him at the front of the store. He had a greek mythology book in hand, but his attention was solely given to Jean at the moment.

“Hey, you got a little sunburnt out there.” Kevin leaned in and squinted at his cheeks.

Jean leaned back, ignored Kevin, and went to his station. He was mindful all the way of the warmth in his cheeks. He sat down on his chair, looked down at his sketchbook, and let his head fall with a groan.

  
  
  
  
  


A mirage. Jean was sure Jeremy had to be a mirage. He had spent the entirety of his night thinking about the last occurrences in his life. Less than three months ago, Jean didn’t know what it was like to feel warmth in his cheeks, his heart beating a mile faster than normal, or what feeling proud of his job felt like. It was overwhelming, all of these new things happening in his life. 

Jean looked down at his cigarette before throwing it into the bin. He’d woken up that morning with an itch for a cigarette, but couldn’t get ahold of it until his break. Neil had given him one glance and passed him the cigarette before he could ask for it. Now, he understood that it wouldn’t take away the thoughts swirling around his brain, so he threw away more than half of it before ten minutes had passed.

He had his first dream the night before. Jean couldn’t remember much, except for golden curls and breezy laughs. His hands were shaking when he woke up, but his heart was steady and his body relaxed. He felt like it was the best sleep he’d had in ages. 

Jean wasn’t dumb. He knew his dream was about one specific florist. Nevermind what happened the day before, Jeremy had become a constant in his everyday life. Said man was currently exchanging bouquets of roses for orchids on the display in front of the store. Jean looked down at his sketchbook and pencils, took a deep breath, and began walking away from the tattoo parlor. 

Jeremy was extremely concentrated in his work, so it was no surprise that he fell forward when Jean greeted him. Jean grimaced as Jeremy face-planted into a bouquet of flowers. He held back a snort when Jeremy scrambled to stand up while shaking petals off his shirt.

“Jean! Good to see you.” Jeremy smiled at him, hands smoothing down his own sweater as he spoke. Jean reached out to move a petal away from Jeremy’s cheek. He held back a shiver when his finger smoothed over Jeremy’s skin and drew his hand back. Jeremy’s eyes had widened in the process and a blush the same color as the petal took over his skin.

“I was wondering if I could just sit down and practice as you work.” 

Jeremy’s eyes filled with that same fondness Jean remembered from his dream. “Of course.”

Jean went into the store and sat down on one of the chairs of the working station. Jean had seen Jeremy make up his flower arrangements on the same table when Jean bought the flowers for his apartment. He felt Jeremy’s eyes trailing his movements and looked up to stare back. Jeremy, having been caught, looked away and began working on the store’s orders. 

Watching Jeremy work was truly the best kind of inspiration for Jean. One could tell he loved his job and it showed with how his hands always delivered the most beautiful arrangements in the entire city. The flower shop was always full of people from Wednesday to Saturday. The only days were it was relatively empty were on Monday and Tuesday. They always had commissions, be it for a wedding, a birthday, or just a simple event. 

While Jean was drawing, Jeremy came over and asked him to choose between three kinds of flowers. Jean, who knew nothing about flowers except that they reminded him of Jeremy, chose the most pleasant one to the eye. It went on like that. Jeremy told him about different kinds of flowers, their meanings, and which ones were the easiest to combine. There was even a moment when Jeremy dropped three flowers besides Jean’s sketchbook. It took Jean off-guard, but when he looked up to ask Jeremy what was it about, the florist simply smiled at him and moved on to finish a bouquet. Jean stared at the flowers for some good minutes before going back to his drawing. 

“Is that really me?”

Jean jumped in his seat at the sudden question. Jeremy was looking down at his drawing with a starstruck look on his face. 

Jean cleared his throat and felt his cheeks burn up. “Yes.”

Jeremy looked away from the drawing and into Jean’s eyes. It was then that Jean noticed the much smaller distance between their faces. He could almost count the freckles on Jeremy’s nose and the speckles of gold in Jeremy’s brown eyes. Jean felt his own lips quirk a bit when Jeremy began blushing again. 

“When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew!” Jean leaned back into his chair at the same time that Jeremy stood straight, eyes wide, and walked away. A tall man had entered the store, reciting words from a Arrigo Boito play Jean barely knew. He was wearing the same tag Jeremy had pinned on his sweater and his clothes, just like Jeremy’s too, matched the vibrant flower shop. Jean glanced towards Jeremy, who was cutting up fabric for bows and whose ears were as red as the flowers in front of him.

“I bought coffee for the long day, Jeremy. It’s only three in the afternoon and my legs already hurt.” The man stepped behind the counter, waved at Jean with a big smile on his face, and placed the coffee in front of Jeremy.

Jeremy glanced at the coffee and then at Jean before going back to tying a bow. “Thanks, Matt,” he said softly.

Jean took one last glance at Jeremy’s rosy cheeks, let the yearning take over his chest for a minute, and closed his sketchbook for the day. Matt’s announcement of it being three already signaled the end to his break. He garnered Jeremy’s attention when he stood up.

“I have to go,” he told Jeremy, a crease making its way between his brows.

Jeremy’s smile dimmed. “See you tomorrow?”

Jean nodded and Jeremy’s smile came back to its normal radiance. Jean saw Matt looking between them with a knowing look and took that as his cue to leave. He said goodbye to the taller florist and left the store. His hand itched to continue drawing Jeremy as he walked to the parlor. Jean closed his eyes as he waited for the traffic light to turn red. As soon as he closed his eyes, he remembered how close Jeremy had been. He remembered the curls framing his face, the freckles Jean wanted to connect with his finger, and the lashes that moved as Jeremy glanced at his lips. Jean opened his eyes.  _ He liked Jeremy.  _

  
  


  
  


Jean didn’t understand the concept of love. It almost felt like a myth to him, another of those fairytales that ended up being a bedtime story. To Jean, the possibility of there being aliens was more credible than him liking someone. If he couldn’t say he liked his parents, how could he say he liked a guy he’d known for less than four months? Jean was much more accustomed to feeling hatred instead. The last three years had been filled with hatred for himself until he finally got away from the centre of his problem. That summer, he’d learned to make himself feel nothing. It was hard, accepting this sudden feeling that bloomed in his chest whenever he saw Jeremy. It was even harder to act like his whole world wasn't turning upside down whenever he saw Jeremy smile. It was fool’s play to think one could know Jeremy Knox and not fall in love with him.

If Jean could describe the past few weeks in three words it would be:  _ flowers _ ,  _ sun,  _ and  _ yearning _ . Jean was a stranger to yearning. He never let himself want anything before, thinking he didn't deserve what wasn’t already given to him. Jean thought he hated the sun. His hatred came from his first weeks in the neighborhood. The change from the rainy weather to a sun so bright it could light up shadows had messed up with his brain. Flowers never meant so much to Jean. They never caught his eye, simply a filler to a background rather than a beauty to stare at.

Jeremy Knox could be described with those three words. His love for flowers was such a pure, noticeable thing, that even Jean had come to enjoy learning about them. Jeremy yearned to be around flowers wherever he was. It was his own joy and passion to take care of the flower shop. Some days, Jean tried to imagine that the yearning in those golden eyes was directed at him. Jeremy’s smile competed with the sun. It felt like he had it trapped within himself, and that everywhere he went, he took the sun with him. Everyone’s immediate reaction was to lighten up whenever they were around Jeremy. He brought out the best in people. Those who entered the flower shop with a frown always left with a smile. Jeremy always said it was because of the flowers, but Jean knew it was all because of him.

He was thinking about the florist and doodling on his sketchbook when a mess of fiery, red hair sat in front of him.

“What’s up with that frown?” Neil asked him.

Jean didn’t even know he was frowning. He’d been ignoring his half-way done painting and drawing Renee and Allison for the past hour. He also drew Dan, the owner of the flower shop. He was initially surprised when Jeremy told him about her, since he’d never seen her before, and was even more surprised when Jeremy said she was Matt’s wife. Jeremy explained that she was also a teacher and that the job took most of her time, so she left the shop in Matt and Jeremy’s hands. 

Jean sighed and let the pencil fall from his hand. “I’ve got a question.”

Neil quirked a brow, but Jean could see the teasing smile quirking the corners of his mouth. “Color me surprised.”

He’d develop a close relationship with the redhead while working at the parlor. It was more of Jean listening to Neil ramble while he worked on designing a tattoo, but they got closer nevertheless. 

It was what brought him to ask Neil the following question: “How did you know you liked Andrew?”

There was an instant reaction to his question. Neil raised his eyebrows and stared at him in surprise. After some seconds of receiving a blank stare from Jean, he cleared his throat and looked away. His cheeks were faintly flushed.

“I always knew. Back then I thought it was all building up to me liking him, but then I noticed that he already had me since the start.” A nostalgic smile had taken over his face. “It always came down to him, in a way. That doesn’t mean he was the answer to all of my problems, and he made sure I knew that. He didn’t solve my problems, but he was there every step of the way to help me. You know how I realized that I’ve always liked him? He was always the first one I thought of when I needed to talk to someone. He was always there to call me up on my bullshit and to bring my brain back from its darkest places. He was, and is, the person I trust most in my life.” 

The buzzing of Kevin’s tattoo machine reached Jean’s ears as Neil finished talking. He’d sobered up from his nostalgic expression, now staring at Jean with a searching look. It seemed he was waiting for an answer, but Jean didn’t know if he had one.

“I don’t think I’m capable of loving someone,” he finally said.

Neil sighed. “We never do.” He continued, “You know, many people would say loving and liking someone are completely different things.”

Jean hummed and thought back to Jeremy placing a red tulip behind his ear. “I think that none of those words would be enough to describe what I feel for him.” 

Neil smiled and reached out to squeeze Jean’s shoulder briefly. Jean was now sure Neil knew who he was talking about. After all, the redhead had found Jean standing outside the parlor and staring at the flower shop various times. He always left him alone after some minutes, but not without raising a brow at Jean when Jeremy waved at them.

Neil took back his hand, but the smile on his face got bigger. “Then, you already have your answer.” 

  
  
  
  
  


What was so special about Jeremy Knox? Was it the way he lit up any room? Was it the way he cared about everything so heartfully? Or was it the way he held Jean’s heart in the palm of his hands without knowing it? 

Jean watched as he cleaned the table near the entrance of the flower shop. He had just finished making three arrangements for a proposal after they decided to take a break from the painting. Gardenia petals were tangled in the midst of a mess of curls and falling out of his shirt pocket. The familiar scene almost made Jean smile, if he were capable of that.

“Voilà.” The three arrangements were now in front of his face, the petals tickling Jean’s nose.

He scrunched his nose at the weird feeling and glared at Jeremy. “C’est magnifique.” 

Jeremy lowered the flowers and laughed when Jean kicked his ankle. Matt entered the store, took the arrangements from Jeremy’s hands, and left once again. He was supposed to deliver them all in the next fifteen minutes and Jeremy had just finished the last batch. He was so focused on watching Matt drive past the store that he didn’t see Jeremy walk around the table and towards him. When he did notice, he reached out to move the painting away from Jeremy’s curious eyes.

“I still don’t understand why you don’t let me see it.” Jean tried to ignore the pout on Jeremy’s lips and looked up into Jeremy’s eyes, pulling a blank expression on.

“Be patient for once,” he told him. Jeremy merely rolled his eyes at the statement and leaned against the table, his shoulder brushing against Jean’s left arm.

He looked to be in thought, glancing behind Jean’s back to get a single look at the painting, but then giving up and staring at Jean’s hand. It was covered in different shades of yellow and orange.

Jeremy looked up and Jean, expecting to see the mischievous look once again, was surprised to see the nervousness brimming in the florist’s eyes.

“Give me something else then.” 

Jean felt like he was caught in a trance. Golden freckles and rosy cheeks stole his whole attention, making way to start the rapid beating of his heart. He focused on the shaky look Jeremy was giving him and raised a brow.

“What else could I give you?” 

Jean waited for an answer. Maybe the answer was in the way Jeremy’s eyes flickered down to glance at his lips, or in the way the blush seemed to expand down until Jean couldn’t trace the rosiness anymore. But, even as he yearned, he didn’t let himself be hopeful.

“A kiss would be a start.”

It was like suddenly everything stilled around Jean. The birds chirping outside the store, the cars driving down the street, and the trees moving with the breeze. Everything stopped as Jean heard the faint words fall from Jeremy’s mouth. Jeremy’s mouth, which now had Jean’s full attention. 

His hand was moving before he’d even noticed. His fingers curled around Jeremy’s chin, bringing their faces closer until they were a breath away.

From there, Jeremy’s nose freckles looked like a constellation Jean wanted to trace until he had it memorized. From there, the blush on Jeremy’s cheeks looked like the paint artists would fight for in the past. From there, Jean could see the whole world in Jeremy’s eyes. 

A petal from Jeremy’s curls fell down between their faces. When it finally drifted past their lips, Jean thumbed the freckles on Jeremy’s cheeks and leaned in.

Kissing Jeremy was like taking a breath of fresh air. It felt like being melted and made again. He couldn’t compare it to anything else, his thoughts were a mess between Jeremy’s lips and Jeremy’s hands gripping his shoulders like a lifeline. He leaned back, his lips burning and his mind a blur. It took one look at Jeremy’s swollen lips and dazed eyes for him to lean back in. Time circled around them like a myth. Nothing could willingly make Jean stop from drawing patterns on Jeremy’s waist with his thumb. Nothing would put Jean aflame like Jeremy leaving kisses throughout his whole face. Everytime he opened his eyes he would see the beautiful curve of happiness on Jeremy’s lips. His fingers itched to draw Jeremy in this state, flushed and bright like a dream. 

Jean leaned back and Jeremy followed like a moth to a flame. He left one more peck on lips as soft as petals when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He knew that meant that his break had ended. This time, when he leaned back, Jeremy didn’t follow.

They stared at each other, hair ruffled and lips glowing with the warmth of the other. Jeremy bit his bottom lip and glanced down at Jean’s pocket. His phone buzzed again.

Jean sighed. “I have to go.” His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears.

Jeremy looked like someone had broken him from a spell, but he still nodded and smiled. “Of course.”

Jean stood up to gather his stuff. As soon as he finished packing his sketchbook and paintbrushes, he gathered the more-than-halfway done canvas in his hand. 

He looked at Jeremy, who had been following his movements with his eyes and wore a smile that resembled sunshine itself. 

“You’re going to show it to me one day, right?” The smile turned teasing.

Jean felt fear start bubbling in his chest and clenched his jaw. He took a deep breath, ignoring the panic just on the edge of the surface, and nodded. “One day.”

He left the store without another word, leaving Jeremy behind with a frown on his face. He’d hated to see the teasing smile turn into the confused crease, but he needed to get away as soon as possible. The sun heated the back of his neck until he started sweating. Jean groaned loudly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. The sun was glaring at him.

  
  
  
  


An alarm rang as light filtered into the room. Jean reached out to silence the sound coming from his phone. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. It was the last day of finishing his final university project. Tomorrow, he would hand in a piece of work that would represent him as an artist for the next years. His last painting. All the things he had given up to reach this point of his life would finally be worth it. 

Every single year of his studies as an artist showed how Jean had been at that point in life. 

All the drawings from his first year were based around loneliness. The new environment had taken a toll on Jean for the entire year, his sketchbook practically showing a cry of help. The theme of his second year was youth. Many of the drawings showed events that were currently happening in Jean’s life. A drawing of cigarettes signaling his first time smoking. A drawing of empty bottles signaling the first time someone took Jean out to party. A drawing, now thrown away, of a japanese man pointing at a bridge with a bottle in his hand. 

The third year was divided in two portions. His first theme had been chaos. The drawings reflected the messy state of his brain and his blurry look on the world. It showed Jean at the lowest moment of his life, barely holding on to sanity. The second theme had been death. It was the semester Jean realized he wasn’t afraid of death. It was the semester where Jean was alone again. It was the semester Jean decided to move out of his previous neighborhood. 

Now, the last semester of his classes was themed around flowers. Jean huffed at the thought. Of all things to focus on, the last thing to come to Jean’s head would’ve been flowers. Even so, all of his past themes had been chosen by himself, but this one was different. It was the first time Jean felt inspired by anything. Never before in his life had something completely overtaken his thoughts in that manner. Jean looked at the tall plant in the corner of his room. He’d bought it his third week there. Jean looked at the other plant, which mirrored the previous one, on the other side of the room and sighed.

Standing up was the hardest part for Jean. He knew what he was doing today and it seemed as if a pile of rocks had filled up his stomach. He took a quick shower and pulled on his paint-stained t-shirt and a pair of jeans. The light coming from his windows made him squint his eyes as he entered the kitchen. As soon as he grabbed a granola bar and coffee, he sat down in his designated chair. Jean stared at the grand canvas in front of him. It was almost finished, only needing up to four hours of perfecting before it was done. 

Jean tilted his head and looked at every single part of the painting. The rocks had risen to his throat at the sight of familiar eyes and golden skin. It was, perhaps, Jean’s best piece of work. The way oranges, browns, and yellows melted together to make a personification of sunshine was most pleasing to the eye. Jean had paid special attention to the texture of the painting. One could, even from any angle, see the strokes flowing to the left as the man faced away from the onlooker. 

Jean picked up his cup of coffee and took a deep gulp, closing his eyes and imagining the rocks disappearing. The warmth that brought the coffee to his body wasn’t unlike the same warmth the man from the painting brought to his chest. Jean lowered the cup and opened his eyes. The birds chirped outside his living room. The biggest window of the room had the blinds up. Light fell directly on the canvas and Jean let himself stare at his painting of Jeremy for a few more minutes. In that moment, Jean let yearning consume him.

He stood up, heart a warfare, and took his phone from where he’d left it on the kitchen counter. He turned on the playlist he specifically made for the making of the painting. The sound of soft music filled the room. Jean left his phone on the windowsill and picked up his brushes. 

Painting Jeremy was as much as confessing to him. It was a thought Jean had accepted since he started with the canvas. He hadn't visited the florist in the last month. The last time they’d seen each other was when Jean decided to follow his heart for the first time in his life. As soon as it finished, Jean ran away. Jean had previously thought he couldn’t get scared by anything, but right then and there, Jean discovered what that feeling was like. He immediately threw himself into an isolated state. He never went outside on his break, preferring to stay inside and listen to Kevin complain about clients. He never glanced at the flower shop when he walked home. His days were a continuous cycle of working and painting. 

The second week in, Jean began dreaming about Jeremy again. There were continuous dreams of Jean worshipping Jeremy from dusk till dawn. The one he remembered the most was of the two of them sitting on Jean’s couch. They were cuddling and Jean had dedicated his time to leave kisses on every part of Jeremy’s face. The dream had ended with Jeremy giggling and pulling Jean into a deep kiss. 

Jean paused, brush dangling from his hand. He clenched his jaw at the deep longing that filled his chest as the images from the dream crossed his mind. He focused on the painting and went back to work. 

Neil, as observant as ever, caught onto Jean’s strange behavior and asked him about what happened. Jean told Neil, but as soon as the redhead opened his mouth he declared he didn’t want to think about it anymore. That had been two weeks ago. The week after that, Jean came up to Neil and began telling him about his worries and his zero knowledge of relationships.

Neil had simply told him, “The only advice I can give you is to try, Jean. Try.”

So, Jean tried. For the past week he’d reflected on his view of life, hope, and love. He decided that no matter if Jeremy rejected him in the end, he would still love the florist and treasure all the new experiences he’d given to him. Jean knew himself to be extremely flawed, but that week he decided to for once in his life  _ hope _ . In the end, he knew there was no need to hide his affections for Jeremy, even if it scared him. The past months had been filled with all these new feelings and Jean had learned to embrace them all, being scared was just another one of those and he would have to embrace it too. 

A song reached its end as Jean gave the painting its final touches. He leaned back, hands smeared with yellow and bits of pink, and stared at his finished canvas. Pride bubbled in his chest and Jean felt his lips quirk into a smile. It was Jeremy, the man who had stolen his heart until the end of time. It was his bright eyes, his rosy cheeks, his golden curls, and the beauty that rivaled any greek god. The canvas was his confession, his utmost desire, and his most hidden truth. 

Jean stood up and ran across the room. He changed from his paint-covered clothes into a newly washed pair of black jeans and a red sweater. He quickly looked for his phone and his satchel, checking the current time of the day. At exactly 11 AM, Jean left his apartment with the canvas in hand. 

The streets were moderately empty, making his trip to the flower shop end in an alarmingly short amount of time, but that may had been because of Jean’s long and quick steps. As soon as he reached the flower shop, he stopped right before crossing the windows. Jean closed his eyes and took a deep breath, stifling the fear brimming in his chest. He walked up to the door and heard the bell chime as he opened it.

Jeremy was behind the counter, eyes focused on tying a bow around a rose bouquet. He mumbled a greeting without looking up, clearly concentrated on the task at hand. Jean shifted on his feet and slowly walked up to where he was standing behind dozens of flowers. He hadn’t changed a bit in the past month. He wore a bright yellow sweater and some light blue overalls, still the exact personification of the flower shop. Jean’s eyes drifted upwards, catching onto the iris petals on his curls. He couldn’t help but let out a snort at the familiar sight. The sound made Jeremy look up from the bouquet.

Jean now recognized how nervous he truly was as Jeremy slowly looked up. His heart felt like it was trying to beat out of his chest. 

Jeremy’s eyes found his and Jean watched as the eyes slowly widened and his mouth fell. Jean shifted on his feet again before clearing his throat. Jeremy looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Hello. You probably don’t want to see me, but I finished the painting and I made a promise to you so… that’s why I’m here.” 

While he talked Jeremy had sobered up, his expression blank as he heard the words coming out of Jean’s mouth. Jean gulped and looked down when Jeremy stayed quiet.

“Is that the only reason why you’re here?” The question took Jean, who quickly looked up at the solemn tone in Jeremy’s voice, by surprise.

Jean felt his chest squeeze painfully when Jeremy started frowning. “No. Not at all,” he said. The words ended up sounding like a whisper, but Jean was too caught up on the relief that came next. The crease between Jeremy’s brows had disappeared. 

Jean saw Jeremy glancing at the canvas in his hand and straightened up. He walked forward, trying to ignore Jeremy’s pointed gaze, and moved Jeremy’s bouquet to the side. Jean looked down to catch Jeremy’s expression as he placed the canvas on the counter. Jeremy was still looking at him, his eyes tracing Jean’s entire face before he decided to look down at the painting.

Right then, Jean knew that all his hard work had paid off. The look of awe in Jeremy’s face made a burst of pride flow through his body. It was beautiful, even more so from an artist’s point of view, to see two pieces of art staring at each other. Jean felt like his heart was caught in a string and that Jeremy had it wrapped around his finger. 

“This is beautiful, Jean.” Jeremy had leaned in to look closer at the painting. His lips were still parted in shock and his eyes were filled with amazement.

Jean smiled at the sight and said, “Well, it’s a painting of you.”

Warmth flowed through his body when Jeremy flushed at his statement and looked away from the painting to stare up at him. He looked like he was about to say something, but his eyes fell on Jean’s lips and he quickly looked back at the painting. He began blushing even more, his ears turning red at the tips.

Seconds of Jeremy staring at the painting passed before he straightened up. After giving the painting one last glance, Jeremy looked up into Jean’s eyes.

“It’s good to see you again,” said Jeremy. He quickly looked away when Jean sighed.

“You probably hate me.”

Jeremy frowned and shook his head. His expression softened as he said, “I don’t think I’m capable of that, Jean.” 

Jean’s heart fluttered like a bird. He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry that I ran away like that. You just bring up all these feelings in me that I never understood and I was scared. The giddiness you gave me, the longing that I had to be with you, I was scared of it all. I planned on coming here a week ago, but then I decided that the only way to tell you how I felt about you would be through the painting.” 

Jean glanced at the canvas that lay beside Jeremy’s hand, pointedly ignoring Jeremy’s gaze as he continued, “I learned to accept the feelings you gave me. I learned to long for them, for you. Each day, whenever I sat down to continue with your portrait, was filled with memories of you from the past months. Those memories are hidden in all of the strokes that make up the painting. It’s as much as me, as it is of you.”

There was the distant sound of wind rustling trees outside the shop. The sun must’ve been at its peak hour, because the flower shop started glowing from the sunlight. 

Jeremy’s eyes were shining. Jean got lost on golden freckles and flushed cheeks. The florist was art himself, one Jean admitted was impossible to recreate. Such beauty required the attention of the whole world, and there was Jean, the only person that saw the sunlight hit Jeremy as a smile bloomed on his face.

“I waited for you every day. I never gave up hoping that you would come in through that door and then kiss me like an encounter from fairytales. There was a part of me that knew that you needed time, so I waited. I would wait for you until the end of the world, Jean.” 

Various emotions built up inside Jean. He wanted to cry, laugh, and yell at the same time. The way Jeremy was looking at him was setting his whole body aflame. The longing in his eyes sent warmth straight to Jean’s heart.

Jean glared down at the counter, cursing the object in his head. He was about to walk around it, but heard a loud laugh and the sound of quick steps before he could. Jeremy appeared right in front of him, glowing like a flower in bloom.

Jean reached up to tuck a golden lock behind Jeremy’s ear, smiling at the blush that instantly appeared as his finger brushed Jeremy’s cheek.

“I am irrevocably in love with you, Jeremy Knox.” 

A sunrise. Jeremy’s smile growing into a beautiful grin could only be described as a sunrise. 

“I am irrevocably in love with you too, Jean Moreau.” Jeremy reached up to cup Jean’s face in his hands. Slowly, he brought Jean’s face closer until their noses were almost touching. Jean drank in the splatter of freckles that resembled paint stains.

“You know, I tried leaving messages these past months about my feelings for you,” said Jeremy. 

Jean’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but Jeremy continued, “I mean the first arrangement that I gave you had forget me nots.” 

Jean smiled teasingly. “Are you saying it was love at first sight?”

He accepted the hand that swatted at his shoulder with a barely-there laugh. Jeremy glared up at him, but Jean could see the corners of his mouth twitching in the effort to hide a smile. 

“You’re acting like you didn’t just show me a portrait of my own face,” mentioned Jeremy.

“What can I say, I have a flair for the dramatic.” Jean watched Jeremy roll his eyes. The teasing smile on his own face widened at the reaction. 

Jeremy stared at his mouth, brow quirked as he asked, “Do you now?” 

Iris petals fell from Jeremy’s curls as Jean wrapped an arm around his waist and brought him closer. A soft gasp, almost inaudible, reached Jean’s ears. They were chest-to-chest now and Jean felt his heart tremble. Jeremy looked up at him, eyes wide and mouth open in shock.

“Jeremy,” whispered Jean. 

There was a second of stillness, of Jean only being able to hear his own heart, before Jeremy leaned up and kissed him. Jean wrapped his other arm around the florist’s waist, lost in the softness of Jeremy’s lips and the warmth coming from his body. It felt like holding the sun in his arms. It felt like holding the most beautiful flower. Jeremy wrapped his arms around Jean’s neck and time lost its meaning. 

When Jean pulled away, it was to catch his breath and stare at the different shades of red on Jeremy’s face. Jean wanted to paint him, kiss him, draw him, and kiss him again. He felt Jeremy’s hands play with the hair on his nape and smiled. He leaned in to nose at a dimple, then moving on to leave a trail of kisses on Jeremy’s face.

Jean felt happiness like a symphony in his chest. 

  
  
  
  
  


There was no reason to be nervous about it. Jean was proud of his work, basically brimming with confidence. His eyes traced the painting in his hand. Walking up the stairs to his classroom was one of the hardest thing he’d ever done. Confidence and all, each step was a rock dropping in his stomach. Jean was about to end another path in his life, one that brought disaster to his life and changed it forever. But here he was, his last project in hand, his head high, and his heart beating. Jean was the most alive he’d ever been.

When he finally got to the room, the teacher was there to greet him with a smile. She glanced at the canvas, not even hiding her curiosity. Jean nodded as a greeting and looked at the other higher-ups of the art department. A girl was currently explaining her painting, her hands moving around nervously. Jean sat down and listened to her explain the story behind her painting. Jean recognized her as Laila, a girl who always participated in class and mentioned her girlfriend every so often. Jean’s eyes traced the painting. She had done an amazing job. He was sure the portrait was of said girlfriend, judging by the curls and confident smirk she always mentioned whenever they got paired together for a project. Her girlfriend was sitting near the beach, hair getting in her face and staring straight at the looker. 

Jean cracked his fingers as she finished talking. He was next. His teacher gave him an encouraging smile as he placed the canvas on the easel. 

Jean took a deep breath, introduced himself and started his presentation. 

“When I first got the assignment of this project, I was told to include flowers in a different way from my past drawings. They were always on the painting itself as the focus of the piece, so I decided to incorporate them like I’ve never had before. For this reason, I named this painting ‘The Florist’.” 

From then on, it was a blur. It was Jean talking about his past attachment to the absence of color and the reason why. It was Jean talking about his strange relationship with feelings and the florist himself. It was Jean pouring his heart out to the teachers, even if they didn’t know it.

Receiving questions for his method of painting was actually the easiest part. The hardest was when one teacher asked why he decided to make Jeremy look away in the painting.

“It’s mostly a reflection of hiding from your feelings. Flowers are all around him, but he’s looking away and into the sun. The flowers represent the feelings and the sun represents obliviousness. It’s the way I decided to incorporate myself in the painting, as it was something I was going through myself while working on the project.”

His answer seemed to appease the teacher, who hummed and looked down to write something on his notes. Right beside him, Jean’s head teacher was grinning at him, a fond look on her face. Jean smiled back only to see her drop her jaw in shock. Another question took his attention, but Jean saw the smile reappear and the ghost of tears following soon after.

When the presentation ended, Jean felt like a whole weight had left his chest. He moved as another student walked up to put her own canvas on the easel. Jean left his painting beside the other projects near the door and left the room. His hands were slightly shaking as he reached for his phone, texting Neil to tell him he was on his way to work. An unanswered message from Jeremy appeared on his notifications. He answered the message and pocketed his phone, his heart a drum in his chest. On the way out of the building, Laila stopped him by screaming his name.

Jean, having reached the end of the stairs, looked up at her. She was panting, hands on her knees and trying to take deep breaths. She smiled when she got Jean’s attention and lifted her right arm, phone in hand.

“Don’t be a stranger,” she said after regaining her breath. Jean saw his contact looking back at him on her phone screen and nodded.

“You too.” Laila’s smile widened as the words left Jean’s mouth. He raised his hand in a wave before walking away from the building. Unbeknownst to himself, a smile was painted on his face the whole walk to the parlor. The sun followed him, as it always did, and Jean closed his eyes to the rays of sunshine. In that moment, he discovered what feeling grateful was like.

  
  
  
  
  


“Nicky, if you don’t move your ass…” Jean looked up to watch Allison push Nicky out of a chair and held back a snort. Jeremy laughed out loud from beside him and Renee, who was now sitting next to Allison instead of Nicky, shook her head.

“Why am I treated this way?” Nicky cried out from the floor.

“I’m your boss,” replied Allison. She was grinning down at Nicky, mischief pouring from her smile. 

Jean shook his head at the scene and looked away. Kevin was talking to Dan and Matt about business plans. Neil sat beside him, paying half of his attention to Kevin’s questions and then the other half to the ruckus Nicky was doing on the floor. Andrew was in the middle of reading a book, Jane Austen if Jean had to guess. They all decided to get together during Jean’s break to wait for the grade of his final project. It had apparently been a plan made by Renee and Jeremy. 

Jean chose to not show the others the painting, simply because it felt too personal for him to show such a big part of himself. They had accepted his decision and continued eating Renee’s donuts of the day without a second thought. Jean barely held back a smile at their actions and felt Jeremy squeeze his hand in encouragement.

Now, five minutes until he received an email, Jean felt warmth traveling up his body at the sight of the people he began to call friends in the past months. This wasn’t a new feeling, as he experienced it with Jeremy every single day, but to know he had these group of people around him was enough for his nerves to go away.

“I like that look on you.” Jean turned his head to look at Jeremy, whose head had been resting on Jean’s shoulder since they got there. Jeremy had lifted his head, yet kept their proximity to whisper the words on Jean’s ear.

He smiled when their gazes connected, and Jean felt his heart skip. Nonetheless, he raised an eyebrow at the statement.

“What look?” He asked Jeremy.

“Happiness. You look happy.”

Jean’s eyes traced Jeremy’s freckles before going back to his eyes. 

“I am,” he told him. A blush spread on Jeremy’s cheek as his smile widened. Before Jean could blink, Jeremy leaned in to peck his cheek and the warmth inside Jean’s body reached his face. 

“Aw, look at the lovebirds. Finally something nice to see after being so close to Allison’s face.” 

Jean looked at Nicky, who was now cowering away from an angry Allison. He was about to make a sarcastic comment, but his phone beeped in his hand. Jean glanced down to see an email notification on his phone. He nudged Jeremy’s shoulder to grab his attention. Jeremy leaned closer as Jean opened the app, his heart rate spiking as he read his head teacher’s name. Jean’s eyes skimmed past the email, his eyes widening when they fell on a number. At the same time, Jeremy gasped from beside him.

“Jean.” He barely heard the whisper, his eyes locked on his screen. Seconds passed and Jean noticed the room had quieted down, the only sound being the beeping of the coffee maker when Aaron finished making his coffee. 

He barely noticed he was holding his breath, the same way he barely noticed his voice crack as he spoke. 

“It’s a perfect score.” 

Jean heard a squeal, although he didn’t see who it was because as soon as the words left his mouth, he was engulfed in a hug. If he had to guess, those hugging him had to be Renee, Jeremy, Matt, Dan, Allison, and Nicky. They squeezed him until Jean had to whisper his inability to breathe. 

He received a total of four kisses on the cheeks, excluding Dan and Renee, who leaned back to grin at him from afar. Neil was grinning from where he was sitting, and Jean looked away to see Kevin with a proud smile. Andrew barely nodded when their eyes caught before going back to reading. Jean felt like he wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. 

“Aaron, bring the celebration cookies!” Nicky screamed near Jean’s ear.

Aaron glared at Nicky from the counter and screamed back, “Shut the fuck up!”

Jean released the laugh he was holding back. The sound was weird even to his own ears, his voice raspy and on the brink of sounding sarcastic. When his laugh subsided, a smile rested on his lips. 

Renee smiled back as she sat down and said, “You deserve it.” 

“Yes, he does.” At the sound of Jeremy’s voice, Jean turned to catch the fond look on his face. He felt like he was staring at a sunrise, a sunrise that was just for him to look at. Jean leaned in to briefly kiss the first rays of the day off Jeremy’s lips. When he leaned back, it was to see the blush of a rose blooming around the freckles. 

The smell of cookies reached his nose, but Jean couldn’t look away from Jeremy. The man who had brought so many things to his life. The man who had not fixed him, yet helped him understand that he could be better. The man who made him realize that it was okay to  _ feel _ . It was okay to be scared, happy, worried, or sad. 

He did look away at the end, but only to watch his friends. To see their smiles directed at him, all brimming with pride. He remembered just how much he detested that neighborhood when he first moved. Jean’s life was a dull cycle of nothing, and then he met all of them. It was a process, one that was still ongoing, but looked brighter with each passing day. 

Jean felt Jeremy’s fingers intertwine with his and looked down. His eyes traced the image of their hands together before looking back up to Jeremy’s face. The warmth had changed into fondness, and the fondness had changed into love.

Softly, Jean began to thumb Jeremy’s hand while listening to his friends talk about the upcoming weeks. Jean eyes caught on the flowers on top of the counter. He almost laughed again, and maybe he did, because Jeremy kissed his cheek again. Who would’ve known that flowers would change his life? It was the least thing Jean had expected, but there he was, a lover of flowers and a lover of Jeremy.

Jean wasn’t fixed. He had a long way to go to get there, but for now, he was happy. Holding the sun in his hand, thumbing the roots of a rose, he was happy. 

The sun lightened the bakery and Jean laughed as Nicky snatched a cookie from Allison’s hands.

He was happy.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone! i'm glad to see you've reached the end of the fic, hope you liked it! this is dedicated to lex, whom i love very much, and my two best friends in the whole world, nika and morgan. they're all the suns that brighten my days. this fic is incredibly important to me, as it includes a big part of myself as a person, so i hope you enjoyed it <3 
> 
> – 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬:
> 
> 𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑢𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑠: declaration of love  
> 𝑜𝑟𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑑: refined beauty  
> 𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒: romantic love  
> 𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑎: secret love  
> 𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑠: a promise in love


End file.
